


Ego Mulier

by velcroboyfriends



Series: Days of Yore [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Historical RPF, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elizabethan Era, Alternate Universe - Historical, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent (not between main pairing), Elizabethan Theatre, Enthusiastic Consent, Fantasizing, First Time Blow Jobs, Gender Issues, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Shakespeare, mild exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velcroboyfriends/pseuds/velcroboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-year-old Lee Pace is a 'boy player' in the King's Men, an actor who plays female roles. When Richard Armitage joins the company, Richard brings with him new ideas about acting and about Lee's own identity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ego Mulier

**Author's Note:**

> Since this AU takes place in a time period and situation you might not all be familiar with, I've written up some historical notes which you can find [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4639158). If you're vaguely familiar with the Elizabethan era and the theatre of the time, you can probably get by just fine without them, but if you're totally new to this idea, or you're just interested, go ahead and read them before diving in so that things aren't too confusing :]

_Quod enim genus figurast, ego non quod obierim?_

_Ego mulier, ego adulescens, ego ephebus, ego puer..._

 

_What form have I not been, what have I not performed?_

_I a woman, I a young man, a youth, a boy..._

\- Catullus 63

 

* * *

 

"The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the entrance of Duncan under my battlements."

When the theatre was full, groundlings in the pit below and aristocrats of all sorts filling the galleries, the bodies soaked up the sound of Lee's voice, but now in the empty space, the half-clouded sun shining across empty benches, Lee's voice rang out through the entire space. He savoured it, the resonance, listened for the words echoing back to him. He loved the noise of the crowd, even when they were hollering and jeering, loved the calls of the orange girls and the appreciative applause alike, but sometimes he loved this more.

"Come," he said, "You spirits who tend on mortal thoughts," and he could imagine the spirits tilting their ears to listen to the Lady's beckoning. The rushing of the wind became their whispers, filling him with dark power.

"Unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty!"

He relished the consonants, the hard ones that cracked at the back of his mouth and the sibilant ones that hissed through the air. He used to drill diction for hours in his prentice days, repeating each syllable until it came out of his mouth perfectly.

"Make thick my blood; stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it!"

It was a long passage to get through in one breath, and Lee was left gasping at the end - he would have to work on that one if he wanted a proper dynamic effect. His chest heaved as he gestured to it, laying his hands flat just under his collarbones.

"Come to my woman's breasts," he said, "And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers--"

It was then that Lee noticed a shadow shifting at the edge of the yard below him. There was a man there, walking through the space and looking up at him. He fell silent, dropped his hands to his sides. Rarely did he allow anyone to view his practicing, these days, now he was near old enough to be a sharer himself, not some boy apprentice.

"You recite most stunningly, my lady," the stranger called up, and Lee smiled demurely. He dipped in a mock curtsey, although he supposed the breeches spoilt the effect.

"I am no lady," Lee responded, his voice dropping to its more natural pitch. For the Lady he did not affect some twittering high voice, as he might for a laughing comedy, but he did take a more womanly tone with her. "Nor yours."

"Are you not to play the Thane's wife?" the man asked, coming closer. He was in want of a shave, his beard thick on his face, but his eyes were clear and blue. "If 'tis so, then you are indeed my lady."

"I mistook you, sir," Lee answered. "You must be the new sharer in our company - the one who is to play the Scottish Lord."

"One and the same." The man approached the stage and hoisted himself onto it with little difficulty. He was in strong physical shape - the slim cut of his clothing showed that well enough. Lee watched as he hopped to his feet and approached. "Richard Armitage," he said, reaching out his hand. Lee took it, bowed slightly.

"Lee Pace." Richard shook his hand firmly with a bow in return.

"A most unusual name, 'Lee'. Brings thoughts of meadows to the mind." Lee smiled.

"'Twas the same thought that inspired my mother," he explained. The way she told it, she'd dropped to her knees in the midst of a clearing those twenty years ago and borne him right there in the lea, alone and bellowing, like a cow bringing forth her calf. The name had followed, a reminder of all the trouble he'd been to her. "Far less kingly than yours."

"Oh, I am far from kingly." Richard's eyes twinkled a little, behind the stoic mask of his face. He did look the part for Macbeth, dark of hair and sharp of feature. True, he was a bit young to play the Thane, compared to the other sharers - he couldn't have been past thirty years - but the fire and steadiness of his gaze brought the look to his face of a man who, under right circumstance, could be capable of greatness. His hair swept back to tuck behind his ears, although a single lovelock lay across his forehead (not put there on purpose, Lee thought, but slipped), and he wore no hat. The collar of his black doublet rose high on his neck, giving him a severe look.

"I am sure you play the part fittingly," Lee said. They fell silent, the last of Lee's words echoing through the galleries. Lee found himself unsettled under this man's gaze, most dreadfully. "If you are looking for Master Burbage," he added, gesturing to the wing of the stage, "He is in the tiring room, I think."

"I would stay here and practice," Richard said, "If you'd have me. The role is a new one for me."

"For me as well," Lee replied. "I would be glad to speak through it." He stepped back into place, where he'd given his speech before. "Shall we begin from your entrance?"

Richard nodded, moving to the side, and they began.

 

* * *

 

"What think you of Master Armitage?" Anna was a gossip of the most uncontrollable sort - when there was a new performer amongst the men's ranks, she wanted to know everything there was to garner about him. Lee suspected, at times, that it was a form of vicarious living for the woman - he knew that, were the stage open to her sex, she would do anything to be upon it.

"He seems a fine actor," Lee said, dipping a brush into the pot of ceruse. Behind him, just visible in the hand mirror he held, Anna was fussing with the laces on his stays. They'd been pulled from the eyelets last night, Field's work. He liked to unlace Lee's stays slowly, methodically. It made up for how fast his much-advertised thrustings were usually spent - they weren't worth the reputation. Most men didn't bother even taking the gowns off, let alone the undergarments, but Field liked to see his back. He liked to bite it sometimes, when he was full of choler.

"A fine figure of a man, too, I hear tell." The white paint was cool on Lee's face, and he was grateful to it for hiding the slight heat that touched his cheeks. While Richard had at first seemed a bit of a wild creature, all thick beard and sharp nose and piercing eyes, over the period of their rehearsal, his beauty had grown in Lee's eyes until he seemed majestic beyond measure.

"He is tall," Lee said simply. "More of the Thane than the Dane in him."

"Then dear Nate should not worry as much as he does," Anna said, and Lee smirked. If Field were to hear a petty maidservant calling him by such a familiar name... Lee was glad no one else was there in the tiring room yet. "He's quite the green-eyed monster in him, to quote our Will - rest his soul." She took her fingers from the laces to cross herself.

"The man reads well," Lee continued, "But 'tis his very presence that stirs the air. I think everyone in the theatre shall quake when he takes the stage."

"Well! I am eager to hear him. Stand up straight, will you?" Lee straightened his body as Anna pulled the stays into place, tightening the laces until Lee's body conformed to the garment. He loved the way it felt, the whalebone and reed that shrouded his torso - like armor against the world. Compared to this, he always felt a bit naked in his everyday shirts and breeches.

It was rouge next, striking on his cheeks until he blended out the circles of red with his fingers, fading them to a becoming flush. It came second-nature enough, after all these years, that he was able to continue working even as he stepped into the hoops of the farthingale Anna laced at his waist, and then into the long red skirt, decorated at the front with beautiful gold trim. It, along with the matching bodice Anna was now lacing around him, had been a gift from the Earl of Exeter, a man with unusual tastes but generous pockets. Lee was happy to bear his requests when they came with such finery.

"I shall miss being your lady's maid," Anna said then, casually, as she tightened the right side of the bodice. Lee froze, half his lip painted crimson. Even without the make-up, his face would have gone pale then.

"Why should you have to stop?" Lee continued painting his lips after posing the question, as though the answer mattered not.

"You're getting older," Anna reminded him. "Taller. No boy player anymore, are you?" Lee put the reddened brush carefully down on the edge of the pot of rouge. His hand shook around the mirror.

"I can still play the parts just as well as I could as a boy - better, now. It would be a pity to waste it all." His right arm was limp as Anna tugged the sleeve onto it, its outer fabric slashed artfully, with pale silk pouring through the openings.

"You could play _more_ parts - I hear things. Burbage thinks to bring back Romeo." _Romeo_ \- a lustful cad who seeks nothing but the arms of whatever maiden strikes his fancy? To play such a part would be beneath Lee. Juliet, with her vexing mixture of timidity and cupidity, was a far greater challenge. He would even have played the _nurse_ over Romeo.

"Nonsense," Lee retorted with a shake of his head. He lifted his wig from the table as Anna worked at the laces of his left sleeve, pulled it over his hair all enclosed in a cap. A few pins held it tightly in place, and he shook his head again to make sure it was secure. Once done, he turned around, and Anna stepped back to look him over.

"You still make a beautiful Gertrude," she said with a smile, reaching forward to straighten the collar of his bodice.

"Once, I made a beautiful Ophelia."

 

* * *

 

There was a harsh huff of breath in his ear as Field leaned over Lee's back, pressing him up against his dressing table. The gown Lee had worn tonight, the gown he'd reigned in and died in, was long forgotten, crumpled to the ground. Nathan undid the last of the laces - all Anna's careful work discarded like that - and Lee's stays were dropping to the ground at his feet. Now he was naked but for the petticoat hanging about his waist, his bare skin prickling in the cold air of the tiring room. The man's hands felt nice and warm as they roamed over Lee's back, a small pleasure he was thankful for. These proceedings could be so dull.

"My beautiful lady," Field whispered, his fingers grasping at the flesh of Lee's hip, and he wanted to correct Nathan, tell him he was neither his nor a lady, as he'd done that morning, but the words caught in his throat. Somewhere in his mind, he wasn't even sure that was true. He'd been made into a woman since he was old enough to read on the stage, and Field had laid claim to him ever since Lee's Desdemona had entranced him. Perhaps he was the man's lady after all.

In the corner of his vision, Lee saw Nathan's hand reach around to the little jar of oil Lee kept on his dressing table for these sorts of moments. He braced himself for the press of a finger, but felt nothing, only heard the squelch of the man's hand around his own cock. Now that same oily, dirty hand hoisted Lee's petticoat to reveal the back of him - Lee shuddered at the thought of the man staining the lovely white lace. Lee would have to wash it himself tonight. Where his legs were spread apart, Field nudged them close together, until the curves of Lee's thighs were pressed tight to one another.

The narrow head of the man's cock nudged at the backs of Lee's thighs, then pushed against them more firmly until Nathan was slipping between them, too low to brush against anything that would give Lee pleasure. Sometimes he managed to enjoy the coupling - although very rarely with Field, for all his reputation as a lover - but this time would not be one of them. Field grunted unbecomingly when he'd fully inserted himself between Lee's thighs, pulled back just a little, grunted again as he pushed roughly forward.

Nathan was lost in pleasure, too lost to hear the tread of footsteps outside the door they'd foolishly left hanging open in the man's haste. Lee looked over his shoulder just in time to see a face in the doorway: a face with blue eyes that widened in shock before the man - _Richard_ , Lee realized - hurried away. Suddenly, for the first time all evening, Lee's cock stirred. He wondered how much of him Richard had seen. He wondered what the man thought of him, if he thought him a whore or a dirty little creature. He wondered how it would feel if Richard's hands were splayed across his ribcage, and not Nathan's.

"Yes, yes," Field whispered, his voice pitched just low enough that Lee could imagine it was not his voice, but Richard's groaning in his ear. Suddenly the press of cock between his thighs was not so unremarkable. With a shaking hand, Lee reached into the placket of his petticoat and wrapped his fingers around his cock, stroking feverishly so as to finish before Field was done - he hadn't much time, he knew.

Sure enough, in just a few moments, the man's hips were stuttering, his teeth sinking into the flesh of Lee's back. In Lee's imagination, they were Richard's hips, Richard's teeth. Lee felt the warm spread of seed between his thighs - _Richard's_ \- and gripped his cock harder and then, _then_ , his body curled in on itself and he was spending into his fist, panting, the image of clear blue eyes seared into his brain.

 

* * *

 

"I have a thought to try something unusual today," Richard said, and Lee's interest was immediately taken. It was already unusual that they rehearsed their scenes daily - most of the actors rehearsed alone, if at all. Richard, however, seemed to have grander ideas of what a play could be, what an actor could do - and it enchanted Lee, if he were to tell it true.

"Pray, tell," Lee answered, leaning a hand on his hip in a motion calculated to seem natural. The way Richard's eyes flicked nervously back and forth only excited Lee more at the prospect of what he was to suggest.

"I would have us face one another. Talk to one another. Move around, as real people might." Lee scoffed.

"Face _each other_? How should the people hear us, then?" Lee gestured broadly toward the galleries.

"Not for the performance," Richard corrected quickly. "Merely in rehearsal, as a tool to aid us. If we were to _act_ as the Scot and his lady truly might... would not we speak as they might?" Lee thought it over, nodding his head slowly. He glanced at the paper in his hand, the part that had always been his sole guide. He'd always relied on the words to show him the way, not on actions. But perhaps it was worth a try - and he'd known the first day he'd met Richard that he would deny him nothing he asked.

"Very well," Lee said cautiously. "Let us try."

"Shall we do the second scene of the second act? From my entrance." Lee nodded and took his usual place on the stage: standing in the center, close to the pit, facing outward.

"Had he not resembled my father as he slept," Lee began, pronouncing it menacingly, "I'd have -"

"No, no," Richard interrupted from across the stage. Lee turned about. "Why do you face the galleries? Is Duncan up there?" Lee folded his arms across his chest, curled into them. "You stand waiting for me to commit a _murder_. Are you not worried about its outcome? Do you not watch the door carefully?"

"I suppose she does."

"Not 'she' - you," Richard insisted. His face was fiery now, excited. It made Lee want to follow his directives, foolish as they seemed. "Consider your thoughts, your worries, in this moment - not your diction."

Lee nodded and took a deep breath. He moved across the stage, nearer the 'door' that Richard was imagined to be behind, then backed away from it, then approached it again, unsure of how best to stand. The uncertainty, though, felt right in this moment of the Lady's fear. Although the daylight shone bright into the theatre, when Lee took his next breath and sank deeper into the feeling of worry, it felt as though it might be the dead of night, the time for foul deeds.

"Had he not resembled my father as he slept," Lee said softly, imagining the fragility of an old man in his repose, the vulnerability, "I had done't." The Lady was resentful now, spitting the line as though to prove herself capable of killing. Lee shifted back and forth now, as he waited for Richard to come through the imagined door. The longer the man kept him waiting, the more he felt he understood the feeling of anticipation in the beginning of the scene. And when Richard finally entered the stage, Lee's heart leapt.

"My husband!" Lee exclaimed, and moved toward Richard. When he went to grasp the man's hands, Richard snatched them away, and Lee remembered - Macbeth's hands in this moment were covered in blood. He too shrank back in response.

"I have done the deed," Richard said, his voice a hollow echo. Then he looked back over his shoulder. "Didst thou not hear a noise?"

"I heard the owl screech and the crickets cry," Lee reassured him, shifting closer. "Did not you speak?"

"When?" Richard's eyes were full of sudden fear.

"Now." Lee shifted back again, nervous.

"As I descended?"

"Ay," Lee answered cautiously. There was a moment of silence.

"Hark!" Richard exclaimed suddenly, and Lee's head jerked in the direction of his gaze. Then Richard shook his head, as if to clear it. "Who lies i' the second chamber?"

"Donalbain," Lee answered. Richard nodded, then moved away, turning back toward the side of the stage from which he'd entered. His gaze was drawn then to his hands, which he lifted chest-high, tilting them back and forth to examine them.

"This is a sorry sight," Richard murmured, his voice raw. Lee stepped forward, placed a hand on Richard's shoulder, as a lady might to comfort her husband.

"A foolish thought," Lee said softly, angling his lips in towards Richard's ear, "To say a sorry sight." His hand traced a path along Richard's arm until it reached his hand, admiring it both as the dark lady, proud of her husband's achievement, and as himself, wishing for the touch of those fingers. Richard turned his head over his shoulder to meet Lee's gaze, their faces so close that the air between them mingled.

Richard looked at Lee for a moment, no Thane in him any longer - he was just a man now. He cleared his throat and stepped away, taking his hand back from Lee's grip on it.

"Well?" Richard said. "Do you think the exercise useful?"

"You may have convinced me."

 

* * *

 

It seemed always to be Lee's fate to still be at his dressing table after a performance even as the rest of the company were bustling about, packing their things up and going out to the tavern. He did not care for taverns, anyhow - he preferred to take his ale in his own quarters and not amongst rough drunkards - so he was not sorry to miss out on their grand plans. Rather, he felt contended as he stood at his table with a mirror, cleaning the paint and rouge from his face with a wet cloth.

As the sounds of the tiring room cleared away, Lee reveled in the near silence. After hours of hearing the chatter and cheers of an audience, it pleased the ear to have a bit of quiet. He was running the cloth over his eyes to clear away the last of the paint when he was startled by a warm, firm hand on his shoulder.

"Oh!" The voice said, and it was unmistakable even before Lee turned round to face Richard. "I did not mean to afright you. I merely wanted to say that you performed stunningly today. I've not seen your equal in the role." Lee felt the tips of his ears begin to burn.

"Thank you," Lee said. "Your Thane was... you were spellbinding." Richard smiled - had he smiled before in Lee's presence? The expression suited him. They looked at one another for a moment. Lee caught Richard's gaze slipping down to his lips, and just as Lee shifted forward slightly, Anna came bustling around the corner, holding Lee's shirt and breeches.

"Well then," Anna was saying, "Let's get you out of those gowns." She came to a stop when she saw Richard and dipped down into a slight curtsey.

"I will do it myself," Lee insisted. "Thank you, Anna." Anna nodded enthusiastically, clearly happy to go home early, and set down Lee's clothing on the corner of the table.

"Until tomorrow, then," she said, gave one last little curtsey, and hurried out of the room. As she shut the door behind her, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Lee knew what was happening here - had known since the touch of Richard's hand to his shoulder, and before that, even.

"It seems a difficult task," Richard said. "Why did you send her away?"

"I supposed," Lee answered as he stepped forward, "That I might find a replacement for the job."

"Oh." Richard's eyes were wide and nervous, and his gaze slipped down again. Lee licked his lips and prayed he hadn't been reading the man wrongly. "I..." Richard began.

"Yes?" Lee tilted his head. Richard cleared his throat and straightened his back, standing nearly as tall as Lee.

"I would like to kiss you," Richard said. "May I?" An unusual man, indeed. He would not have had to ask, but he _had_ , and Lee's heart thrilled at the feeling. He was not used to it.

"You may," Lee answered, and just as the words left his lips, Richard was upon them, kissing him with all the fierceness of a hungry man devouring the meal he'd longed for. Lee wrapped his arms about Richard's neck and backed toward the table until he was leaned against it.

While most men treated Lee either as a delicate flower or as something to be possessed, Richard kissed him like an equal. When Lee pressed his tongue forward to delve into Richard's mouth, the man allowed it, and sighed softly in answer. First Richard's fingers cradled Lee's face; then, as Lee sucked Richard's lower lip between his teeth, they wandered back, finding the carefully curled hair of Lee's wig. Richard tugged the thing from Lee's head and pressed his fingers in under the cap beneath, slipping it off so he could tangle his hands in Lee's real hair.

"Richard," Lee whispered when the man's lips left his to move to his neck, mouthing over the pulse pounding at the side of it. "Would you..." His breath hitched when Richard sucked at the pale flesh of his throat, the skin blooming into a rough circle of violet, like a wax seal on parchment. "Would you have me?" Richard left off and raised his head to nod solemnly.

Lee moved to turn around, but Richard tightened his hands on Lee's shoulders and stopped him.

"I would look upon you," Richard said, and lifted a hand to brush his fingers across Lee's cheek. The man pressed a kiss to Lee's lips again, lingering long and soft there, as that same hand moved down to clutch at the side of Lee's skirts. Slowly the fabric raised up Lee's stocking-clad legs as the man's fingers closed around more and more of it. Lee shivered when the air hit his bare thigh, above the stocking.

Richard's hand let go his skirts to dart underneath, laying a touch first to the top of Lee's stocking, then to the smooth inner surface of Lee's thigh. His touch inched upward, and Lee found himself holding his breath as the man's fingers moved closer and closer to the root of him.

"May I?" Richard asked, and Lee swallowed hard and gave a stilted nod. Then Richard dropped to his knees before Lee.

"What in heaven are you - oh," Lee said, and " _Oh_ ," again, as Richard first closed his fist around Lee's cock, then, shoving Lee's skirts roughly up above his hips with his free hand, laid his tongue to the shaft of it. He dragged his tongue upward, and a shudder ran through Lee's entire body. "Oh, _lord_ ," Lee whimpered.

He'd been taken by many a man before, of course. Most preferred the Greek fashion, or between his thighs. Sometimes they wanted the use of his mouth, or just the use of his hand. But never before had someone granted him the same treatment - never did any man dare touch him _there_ , the proof of his sex. Never before now.

It was hard to believe how good it felt. Lee found himself close to laughter, moaning out joyfully as Richard made another delightful stroke of his tongue. To think that such pleasure had existed in the world, unfelt by him until this moment, seemed ridiculous and wondrous all at once.

Just as Lee thought that nothing could feel better than this, Richard brushed his lips along the head of Lee's cock, and then - and _then_ \- he slipped his mouth open and closed it around him, and Lee was plunged into soft, wet heat. He hissed out a gasp and his hand flew down to grasp Richard's where it clenched in Lee's skirts. Below Lee, Richard's eyes fixed upward, locking their gazes together.

"Please," Lee whined, pleading for more of this feeling that shifted the balance of the world Lee had thought himself to be living in. To think that happiness like this could come from the simple actions of a man's lips... it changed everything. And as Richard moved his head back and forth, Lee's cock slipping back and forth within his mouth, the world shifted yet again.

Lee knew this could not last long. Like all beautiful things, this was fleeting, the waves of pleasure threatening to close over him and take him under. He fought against it, struggling to the surface every time he felt the wave coming. But Richard's tongue danced along the length of him, and his generous mouth pressed and sucked all around him, and Lee knew it was too much.

"Wait," Lee breathed, "I - I -" But it was too late, and Lee sank under, closing his eyes as his body tightened and curled in on itself. The noise that emitted from his mouth was more a sob than anything else, and then he made not a sound at all as he poured out.

The room felt quiet and narrowed-down as Lee's eyes slowly opened again. Richard was rising to his feet, the apple of his throat bobbing as he _swallowed_. The sight of it made Lee's cock attempt to stir once more, but naught came of it. He reached out to wrap a hand around the back of Richard's neck as the man stood fully, pulling him in for a kiss. His mouth tasted of salt and something more.

Lee's other hand fumbled as he tangled it in the laces of Richard's breeches. They came apart all the same, allowing Lee's hand entrance into them to wrap around Richard's own cock. He stroked quickly as their lips slid together, vibrating with the sounds of Richard's sighs and moans. Lee used every trick he had - a twist of his wrist here, a swipe of his thumb there - and the effect they had on the man was stunning. Soon Richard was panting, his lips stilled in their movements.

"Yes," Richard mumbled, "Yes, like - _Lee._ " His hips thrust, pumping his cock in and out of the ring of Lee's fingers. Lee felt the tip of it become slick, and then Richard was clutching at Lee's hair and at his face, and then Richard's mouth fell open and his head tipped back as he spent in Lee's hand with a long, low groan. Most men looked foolish in climax, but Richard looked beautiful, the line of this throat long and lean where it stretched back.

Lee kept stroking as the man's cock twitched, feeling the pulse of the little ridge under his thumb as his seed spilled from him. Only when Richard shuddered at his touch did Lee cease his workings. Richard's head fell forward again, his forehead resting against Lee's as they shared hurried breaths, their chests heaving together. His eyes were open, beautiful pools of blue that searched Lee's face, as if he were unsure this had truly occurred and was no mere shadow of a fantasy.

Lee was the first to break the moment of tension as he turned to take up the cloth he'd used earlier to wipe off his face. He pressed it to his hand, cleansing it, then turned his attention to the stripes of white across the dark green brocade of his skirts.

"I'm sorry," Richard said, but Lee shook his head.

"No need." Lee patted at the stain, and soon it was gone. That done, he set down the cloth and began to unlace his bodice from his overskirt. Richard merely stood there, as though unsure of what to do with himself. Lee had figured the man would have left by now, his aim accomplished, but here he still was. It was most curious.

"Would you help me?" Lee asked, turning so that Richard could reach the laces up the back of Lee's bodice. If he was going to stay, Lee thought, he may as well perform the task Lee had sent Anna away from.

"I would be glad to," Richard answered, setting his hands to the task. He undid the laces easily - he'd done such a thing before, Lee supposed, with some other woman, or women. As he worked, Lee loosened the laces of his sleeves just enough that, once the back was undone, he could slip the garment from his torso.

Lee unfastened his underskirt and petticoat from around his waist, letting them fall to the floor as Richard reached carefully under his arms to untie the laces of his partlet. Lee'd worn it open tonight, and it fell easily from his shoulders into Richard's hands. For a moment, Richard traced his fingers over Lee's now-bare back, then laid his lips to the center of Lee's spine. Then it was back to the work at hand, Richard's fingers first untying the knot of the roll about Lee's hips, then moving to loosen the laces of his stays.

Richard loosened the strings just enough that, after Lee had unfastened the farthingale and let the hooped skirt fall to join the others, he was able to lift the set of stays from Lee's torso. Lee stretched his arms upward and let the stiff garment come up over them and off. He took in a truly deep breath for the first time all afternoon.

Now, in only his shift, Lee felt vulnerable, and once he'd pulled the shift off entirely, his entire body bared to Richard's gaze, he felt more naked than he'd ever been in his still-short life. Quickly he grabbed for the breeches lying on the table before him, but Richard laid a hand to Lee's wrist.

"I would look upon you," Richard said, just as he had before, but in his voice was a question. Lee answered it by standing still where he was, and although he could not see Richard's eyes, he could feel them. A light hand caressed the side of his hip and pressed gently, as though Richard wanted him to turn around. Lee thought he was mistaken, but the touch continued. Lee turned around, although he folded one arm over his chest and laid the other hand over his groin.

"Why do you cover yourself?" Richard asked softly, touching the arm that shielded Lee's flat chest.

"I am no true woman," Lee answered, looking down at Richard's hand, "No beautiful thing to look upon."

"Who has told you thus?"

"Most men would have me for a woman - they care only to look upon me from behind." Lee's face flushed as he said it. Richard's hand traced over the red of Lee's cheek, cradling his face in the palm of his hand.

"I would have you," Richard said, "For who you are - whoever that may be." Looking into his earnest eyes, Lee could feel it was true, and he let his arms relax, dropping to his sides. Richard's hand stroked along the flat plane of Lee's chest, and while Lee still felt tense at the touch, he felt more at ease under Richard's gaze than he'd imagined he could be.

"Now I would look upon you for myself," Lee said after a moment. Richard smiled slowly.

"Come to my quarters with me," the man said, with a warm curl in his voice that had Lee's heart fluttering, "And you may." Lee smiled in return and bent forward to press a slow, firm kiss to Richard's lips. Richard's hand tightened where it rested upon Lee's hip.

And as Lee slipped on his own shirt and breeches and saw the light in Richard's eyes diminish none at all at the sight of him in a man's clothing, as they walked together from the tiring room, Lee wondered at this brave new world he'd found in this man's eyes, one which he seemed, for once, to fit neatly into.


End file.
